A Story on the HRE Theory
by CookieChillpieXD
Summary: England accidentally changes Germany into a kid, and... Well the story is mostly about the countries finding out Germany is HRE. So if you don't believe that theory, you might not enjoy it.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Soooo! I don't know how well this story will go down~ But, hey can't blame a Cookie for trying~! Um. I might continue if people actually enjoy it. Anyway! Enjoy I suppose!**

**Disclaimer: The only person who owns Hetalia is the one wrote it. If I owned it, things would probably be exactly the same! ^-^ **

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Chapter 1: How it all began:

It started because Germany wanted out, just for a bit. Italy was all hyped up after a day filled with G8 Summit and had passed out. So Germany took his leave.

Now, he was walking down the chilly London street, a blue scarf around his neck making his eyes seem even brighter. Those eyes scanned the little closed down shops and bars, looking for a pub or something. Somewhere that might have good beer.

When he spotted a slightly smaller building, a hole in the wall sorta place, he entered. Taking his leather gloves off and rubbing his cold hands together he made for a barstool.

"What can I do for you sir?" The waiter asked.

"Just a beer. Not light." Germany muttered, leaning on the bar and hoisting himself up on the stool. Not minutes later a new voice inched it's way to Germany's ears.

"You bloody American! Wh-Who do you think you are! Touching the British Empire!" Germany could tell that drunken slur from anywhere. England.

He turned his stool slightly to the left and saw the bushy browed nation in a corner... yelling at no one.

Germany huffed and grabbed his beer, paying the waiter the respected amount, and walked to England's corner booth.

"'Ello Ludwig 'ol chap!" England chuckled.

"Hallo zo you as vell Arzur." Germany huffed. He noted the empty bottles of alcohol covering half the table not even having to guess why England had come.

Hosting the G8 Summits in your country could be quite stressful, this time is was hosted in London.

"Arzur, vould you like me zo valk you back zo your hotel room?" Germany asked, mostly fearful for the well being of the street, and the people on them.

"Ah, bollucks, Bloody hell, I'm sure I can get there my self. But fine. Bloody walk me home!" England grunted, getting up only to sway and bump against the table.

Germany finished off his beer before grabbing at England's arm and steering him out of of the bar. "Let's go Arzur, before you hurt somevone, or yourself."

With England's inability to walk properly, it took almost 20 minutes to get back to the hotel, and 10 minutes to get him into the elevator and up to the room.

"Give me zhe key Arzur." Germany ordered, annoyed and wishing he hadn't offered to walk the brit home. But England simply grunted and dug for to the room, dropping it in Germany's open hand.

After unlocking the door and leading England in, Germany turned to leave.

"Ello! Germany! Hand me that book before you go, git." England said, still slurred and drunk sounding. Germany just grabbed a heavily bound purple book and tossed it on the bed.

"Zhere. Anyzhing else?" Germany muttered, wishing he could just go back to the bar.

"Be a good lad and get me a glass of water?" England asked, sickly sweet.

"Vater? Fine." Germany grabbed a plastic cup and headed to the bathroom to fill it up.

As he filled the cup, he was unaware of England on the other side of the wall, waving a wooden stick around and muttering a slured spell. Just as Germany walked back out, England pointed the stick at Germany and yelled something out.

A veil of purplish smoke wisped around the completely confused German, and all of a sudden... Poof!

England watched in utter awe as the tall, blue eyed German disappeared into thin air, his clothes dropping and pooling onto the carpeted floor.

"Bloody hell..."


	2. Holy Roman Empire?

**A/N: So I realize my chapters are quite short, but I like them that way! ^ ^ I want you to review~! PLEASE~! *holds a knife to your favorite anime character's neck* He/She shall die if you don't~! **

**Disclaimer: Not yet, never, actually. **

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"Bloody hell..." England stared at the pile of clothes, the scarf landing in a heap on top. His mouth was gaping open like a fish and his green eyes were as wide as saucers.

"I MADE HIM COMBUST!" He shrieked, tumbling off the bed and racing to the pile of Germany's clothes. His sifted through then, almost letting out a scream when his hands met bare flesh. England let out a loud squeal, tumbling backwards and landing on an overly plush chair.

A child lay curled up in a small ball, hands fisted by his slightly chubby cheeks. Blonde hair fell over his eyes, which were tightly closed. England tried to get his breathing to calm while he stared at the boy.

"What the...? A lad...?" England muttered. He got off the chair, leaning over the child and moving over him and brushing the messy blonde locks off his forehead. "You look like a young lad I once knew..."

The boys eyes slowly blinked open, blinding blue stared up into England's own forest green ones.

"Where am I? This is not my home?" The blue eyes looked over the dark hotel room, and his voice had a slight German accent. "This is not Austria and Miss Hungary's house."

He new Austria and Hungary...? The only time they lived togetherwas during their marriage... Was he..

"May I ask your name Lad?" England asked, using the voice he once used on a young America.

"I do not know you. What is your name?" The boy said, sitting up and glaring into England's eyes.

"I am The United Kingdom of Great Britain." England smiled, pride is his accented voice.

"You are not Great Britain. The Great Britain I know is much younger. But you do have quite scruffy eyebrows." The boy had a look of confusion, staring at England.

"I assure you lad, I am Britain." England smiled, ignoring the eyebrows bit.

"I am The Holy Roman Empire."

[-]

Italy woke up, alone and nervous.

"Germany?" He called. Looking around the pitch black hotel room. "Germany!" Italy jumped from the bed, naked as ever, and flicked the light on. Of course, Germany wasn't there, but a small folded note sat on the bedside table. Italy picked it up gently and looked it over quickly.

Italia:

I went out for a drink. Be back soon. Ich Liebe Dich.

-Germany.

Italy giggled. Him and Germany had been 'dating' for a while now and the strict German had only recently started taking to telling Italy he loved him. Italy looked around the room, the florescent green clock read 3:30, much too late for Germany to be out. Right? Italy grabbed for his cell phone, dialing Germany's number and waiting.


	3. Maybe Frog Face Can Help?

**A/N: Alright, so I had problems figuring out what to call Holy Rome. Also his personality. So, REVIEWS ARE MY CRACK! So please review. It'd be very sweet of you. ^ ^ Thank you so much. **

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The loud shrill ringing of a cell phone made both England and... The Holy Roman Empire?, jump.

"What the hell is that!" Holy Rome screeched, chubby hands covering his ears. England dug through the pile of Germany's clothes and yanked his phone out. The word 'Leibling' was blinking in time with the rings across the contraption. England just hung the phone up and threw it at the wall.

Holy Rome was shaking, looking terrified at now broken phone on the ground.

"Shush lad." England muttered, confused and still tipsy feeling.

"Who are you! Where am I!?" Holy Rome yelled, blue eyes wide and scared. "Tell me!"

"Bloody hell, calm down lad!" England shouted, head throbbing. He crouched in front of Holy Rome and stared into his eyes. The boy was shaking and still terrified looking. "You know France?"

"Ja... What does that have to do with anything?" Holy Rome hissed out.

"I'm going to take you to him, he will, hopefully, help me sort this out." England smiled, hoping to calm the child down. Holy Rome nodded, standing up on shaky legs. That's when England noticed the boy was naked. The older nation picked the boy up and sat him down on the bed, heading for his luggage. He dug through them for a moment, with Holy Rome watching him curiously, before pulling out a simple white t-shirt.

"This will be quite big on you, but it will have to do I suppose." England muttered, sliding the shirt over the boy. The shirt was big enough to be considered a dress on Holy Rome, and the boy pouted.

"Okay then Lad, let's head to Frog Face's room." England said, helping Holy Rome off the bed and leading him to the door.

"This is a hotel?" Holy Rome asked, looking at the the gold and red upholstery and mahogany doors, each with a sign hanging from the doorknobs addressing who was in each room. Only for easier knowledge for the other nations, seeing as the hotel was closed off except for them for the Summit.

"Much nicer than any I've been to." Holy Rome scoffed. England just laughed lightly, shakily. After finally finding France's room, England took a deep breath, he never socialized with Cheese Breath unless the situation was dire. And in England's book, this was a dire situation.


End file.
